


Murder Club

by k506rl



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: (none of them will die dw), Action/Adventure, Betrayal, Conspiracy, Death, Depression, Deus Ex Machina, Drama, Drugs, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Horror, It's Not Paranoia If They're Really Out To Get You, M/M, Matter of Life and Death, More tags to be added, Murder, Mystery, Past Abuse, Psychological Horror, Puzzles, References to Depression, References to Drugs, Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts, Trust Issues, Violence, murderteez, they all got them ~secrets~
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-26
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-17 13:42:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 19,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29718051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/k506rl/pseuds/k506rl
Summary: Eight men are told that if they don't come to a meeting place at midnight, everyone - including loved ones and the police - will find out about their past crimes. When they arrives, they realise that this won't be a simple pay-up blackmail, but that they will all be forced to take part in cryptic games together.They all have secrets that they would do anything to keep that way - and someone is taking advantage of that.
Relationships: Choi San/Jung Wooyoung, Jeong Yunho/Song Mingi, Kim Hongjoong/Park Seonghwa
Comments: 4
Kudos: 29





	1. Saw it on TV

Somehow, even though he was awake, it felt like a nightmare. This letter that he was holding in his hands… it couldn’t be real, right? There was no way anyone could know. And even if they did… who in their right minds would respond by doing, well, _this_?

His hands had become sweaty as he read the letter over and over again, looking for some kind of clue that it was a prank. But… it was clear. This was real, and not a prank.

_Dear Jung Wooyoung,_

_We know what you did 10 years ago on the 3 rd of February. We have evidence and are willing to release this information to everyone you care about, as well as the police._

_Of course, we wouldn’t be telling you this if there weren’t a way for you to avoid that fate. If you come to the western end of Orchid Way at midnight tonight, we will consider not releasing the proof._

_You do not need to bring anything with you._

_Sincerely,_

_Some admirers._

It was clear… they knew about his secret that he had kept perfectly for 10 years exactly.

Who could know? The police? No, they would have arrested him by now if that were the case.

Wooyoung shook his head as he realised the time. He tried reasoning with himself; maybe he was loosing it and imagining this letter. Maybe if he carried out his day as usual, things would continue to be normal, and this problem would erase itself. That’s right. Right now, all he needed to do was go to class.

He rushed to pick up his bag and put on his shoes, throwing the piece of paper onto his untidy bedroom floor in the process.

“Don’t forget your keys!” Wooyoung’s mother called out as he hurried down the stairs and out of the house. He grabbed them from the countertop, kissed his mother on the cheek, and ran out the door. These actions were automatic for him at this point, having been practiced almost every day for over a year now. Even as he hopped on the bus to university, his mind was almost blank, almost successfully forgetting that in his room lay a message of blackmail aimed towards him.

He sat at the back of the bus as usual, and had a good view of the interior. The more he thought about what had happened just minutes before, the more his throat began to feel swollen, as if he couldn’t breathe. He slowly looked around at the others on the bus – were any of them looking at him – watching him? There were some of the usual passengers present , as well as a few people he didn’t recognise. That was to be expected, considering he was riding into the middle of the bustling city of Seoul. But… could it be that one of these new faces was the one who had sent him that message – and was watching him right now?

Before his mind could become paranoid, the bus reached his stop and he jumped off, sprinting towards his university building in the hopes that _if_ someone _were_ watching him, he would lose them. His lungs hurt a little as be finally approached the large, modern building.

“Yo.” He heard a familiar voice call. Wooyoung looked up, panting as he caught his breath. “Are we late or something? Why are you running?” Wooyoung shook his head at the other man – San, his best friend.

“No, I, uh- just wanted to run. Felt a bit unfit, I guess.” He made up an excuse on the spot, knowing it was a dumb excuse that the other wouldn’t believe for even a second.

“Huh, you dance every day. You’re not unfit, you weirdo.” San laughed at him, but didn’t question any further. San was always like that – able to read the mood, accepting and relaxed. Wooyoung, on the other hand, was often hyper and stubborn, a loud guy who didn’t know when to shut up. Despite their differences, though, they had a similar sense of humour and always had a good time together. Maybe it was precisely _because_ they were opposites that they were best friends.

They headed towards class together, Wooyoung looking over his shoulder a few times on the way.

The lesson was pretty boring – Biological Psychology. It was in a huge lecture theatre with the other 100 or more Psychology majors, a compulsory unit that Wooyoung found rather dry in comparison to the other areas of the subject. He much prefered Criminology, or the study of stranger things like dreams and psychosis. So, in the monotony of the environment, Wooyoung’s mind found it difficult to stop itself from wondering back to the letter.

It rang around in his head again and again. 10 years ago… “We know”… “We”? That must mean more than one person. So, a couple? A group? How many people was it? And besides, what could these people possibly want with him? They told him he didn’t need to bring anything – not even money. Hell, even if they did, it’s not like he had any money. He’s have to steal from his parents… but, if that meant them not finding out, then perhaps even stealing from them would be worth it. But no, that wasn’t of concern right now, because these people _didn’t_ want money.

Did they want to hurt Wooyoung? Kidnap him? Torture him for what he did, or sell him into a trafficking ring? Some other horrifying thing that he couldn’t even imagine? He could feel panic rising in his throat again. The professor’s low and monotonous voice didn’t help either, making his head feel like it was reverberating painfully. In fact, when had he last taken a breath? He felt dizzy… everything was spinning.

_I need to get out of this lecture hall._

He didn’t argue with that thought at all. He immediately shoved his laptop back into his bag and stumbled out of the lecture theatre, tossing a simple ‘I’ll be back in a bit’ towards his questioning friend.

As soon as he stepped foot outside, he started to feel a bit better. Not in terms of his anxiety, but certainly in terms of dizziness.

Despite having arrived on campus only half an hour ago, he found his feet bringing him away from university in a search for somewhere that he could be alone. There weren’t many places like that in the centre of the city, but he did have one idea. He made his way towards a familiar place – a tiny, hidden park that was hidden from all except those who knew about it – and not many did. You had to walk down a few derelict side streets that led nowhere before pushing yourself through some overgrown bushes and appearing on the other side, where there was a small opening with a few trees, flowers, and a bench.

He dropped his bag on the damp grass, not caring if it got dirty. He sat down on the old wooden bench, letting the emotions finally overcome him. He felt his body shake in fear as he realised the significance of the situation he was in, how vulnerable he was, how everything he had built up could come crumbling down if he didn’t do something.

The memories of that secret – the thing that happened ten years ago, when he was 11 years old – flashed through his mind, and he had to hold his head with both hands, as if that could stop his mind from falling apart. He closed his eyes, allowing the memories to drown out all other sensations.

He saw those pupils again – those blank, uncaring eyes looking at him as he laid in bed, barely able to move, unable to speak. He could barely tell them to stop any more. And those eyes didn’t care.

He remembered drinking that god forsaken drink every day for years, and suffering for it. After all, there was nothing he could do. He had tried to resist before, but it was useless. If he didn’t do it willingly, they would force him to drink the concoction. They would hold him down and cover his nose so that he had to open his mouth. They would pour the drink down his throat, even as he choked, to make sure he stayed the way that he was – lonely, weak and sick.

And then there was that day. The day that he had been allowed to sit at the table with mother and father – because the doctor had said to them that he should be eating properly to make a recovery, as well as some bullshit about spending more time with family. That doctor… he had no idea what was going on. He had no idea that the illness he was suffering from was not because of genetics or some long-term infection, but was all induced by his parents and their selfish desire to claim money from the government. Money that they didn’t spend on his care, as they were expected to, but that they spent on drugs – some for themselves, and a few that they would use to maintain Wooyoung’s dire physical state. Either way, all of those drugs were illegal – even a young Wooyoung who had barely been to school knew that.

But that day, a young Wooyoung decided that things had to change. He couldn’t live like this. He wanted to have friends, he wanted to go to school, and he wanted to feel ok.

The present-day Wooyoung remembered using the rare occasion of his parents cooking a meal to creep into his parents’ bedroom. He had a plan – to pick up needles that were filled with some kind of clear liquid. He didn’t know what it was exactly, but he knew that they would take it every evening without fail. As planned, he exchanged the liquid in those syringes for the stuff in a large bottle from the bathroom closet with the words “bleach” written on the side. He had seen a TV show before where a character died from drinking bleach – so surely, if his parents injected it into their veins, they would die too, right?

He didn’t get any sleep that night. He had eaten that last meal with his parents quietly – sausages and mash. He didn’t say a word, and went to his room straight afterwards to hide and let them continue their usual nightly routine of injections, drinks and god knows what else. He anxiously waited for them to finally die – so that he could be free from this hell. And not for one minute did he consider stopping them, or calling an ambulance. He felt no guilt. He only felt hope – hope that it would work, and hope that it would happen sooner rather than later.

It was around 2 a.m. when he stopped hearing noises coming from his parents’ room. That was unusual, considering they usually stayed up high until the early morning. But even then, Wooyoung didn’t go to check on them. He pretended to sleep, only trying to fool himself that he was getting any rest, before the sun rose and he got up out of bed.

The rest was a blur. He remembered images of his parent’s bodies laid on the floor engrained in his mind, but other than that, he couldn’t remember much. He didn’t know how he called an ambulance or how the police questioned him, how doctors eventually figured out that his parents had been the ones poisoning him, or how social workers decided to put him into foster care. The next clear memory he had was hearing from those very same social workers that they were so sorry, but his parents had died from an accidental intake of disinfectant.

That’s right – somehow, they had decided that his parents had accidentally replaced their drugs with bleach themselves. He hadn’t been suspected, even for a second. He had gotten away with the murder of both his parents. And he was finally free.

Every since that day, he had tried his best at everything he did. He made it a point to maintain a great relationship with his adoptive parents. He joined so many clubs, and studied hard at school, and worked hard towards his dream of becoming a researcher.

And, more importantly, since that day, Wooyoung had kept his secret with him. He hadn’t told his new, kinder and gentler parents. He hadn’t told any of his friends. He hadn’t even let himself think about it. But now… he was being forced to face reality.

-

He had eventually dragged himself back home after calming down enough to appear sane outwardly. He was now sat in his bedroom, curled up in the corner, weighing up his options. On one hand, he could _let_ these people tell everyone what had really happened. Realistically, what punishment could he face? Prison? That much was pretty certain. Considering the circumstances, he might be given a light sentence. Especially if he pretended to show remorse. But… that wasn’t what he was really worried about.

What would his adoptive parents think of him? Would they become afraid of him? Would they forgive him? Would they disown him? And what about university, that he had worked so hard for? He would have to give that up, as surely the university would kick him out after finding out one of their students was a killer.

And his friends. San, and the others. There’s no way they would simply be okay with it all.

He couldn’t let any of that happen. If he did, then the last 10 years of his life would have been for nothing.

Another option was to go to the police himself, to report blackmail. But that wouldn’t do anything – he would have to tell them of the crimes he had committed, and that would end in the same result, only by his own hand instead of someone else’s.

The only other option he could consider was… actually going to this place tonight. Yes, maybe he would be attacked, or get into some even deeper trouble. But the small chance of his secret staying a secret was, in his eyes, worth the risk.

He considered bringing a weapon for self defence. He didn’t have any combat experience, but he was relatively strong and fast, having taken part in several sports teams, and being especially committed to the dance troupe at university. Maybe he stood a chance if there was only one other person there to meet him.

As he was considering everything he could do, the sound of his doorbell ringing made him jolt back to reality. He got up, his legs numb from sitting in the same position for so long, and he cautiously made his way down the stairs to the door. It was too early for his parents to be back from their jobs – they usually only got back late in the evening. Who else would it be? He hoped it was something as innocent as an Amazon delivery.

He pulled the door open quickly, startling the figure in front of the door. But as soon as he saw the bright pink hair of his best friend, he immediately felt calmer, like nothing was wrong again.

“Hey, Woo.” San greeted, smiling slightly. “You didn’t answer my texts, so I came. Are you feeling okay?” He asked.

Wooyoung nodded – not because that was the real answer, but because he knew there was no way he would be telling San about his predicament. He couldn’t risk losing his closest friend. “Uh, yeah. I just… felt a bit sick at uni. Needed to leave, y’know? Sorry for leaving so suddenly.” He said, figuring that San was worried about him leaving so abruptly this morning.

San shrugged happily in reply, accepting the explanation and reaching inside his bag. “Well, here’s some of the notes from today anyways. It was just a load of shit about neurotransmitters and the hippocampus.” He handed his notes over to the other man, scoffing at the dull material. Maybe that was another reason why they got along – they both hated boring things with a passion.

“Thanks, man.” Wooyoung genuinely felt grateful to have such a great friend. This only solidified his decision that he would do anything to not let his secret slip. “Wanna come in for a bit?” He offered. He knew that San had to have gone out of his way to come and visit him, and it was still chilly outside during this early spring time. Maybe he could warm up here a little before going back to his own home.

“Nah, it’s alright. I… have to prepare for something.” San declined the offer. Before Wooyoung could ask about what he was doing, however, San continued. “But I’ll see you tomorrow in class?” Wooyoung nodded happily at that suggestion, wanting nothing more than to attend some more boring classes with his friend.

As San walked away from the house, Wooyoung couldn’t help but worry whether or not he would even be able to attend another tedious class again.

-

He had savoured that leftover meal his parents had cooked for him the night before – it was a simple pasta dish, but nevertheless, he was thankful.

Putting back on his shoes, he left his house with nothing more than his coat, phone, keys and a small pocket knife. It was a small comfort, and honestly, he didn’t even know if he could bring himself to use it. Sure, he had killed, and hadn’t regret it, but that was different. Poison felt so much less personal. Stabbing someone, however… the thought made him shiver.

It didn’t take too long to get to the location – a twenty-minute brisk walk. He approached Orchid Way from the western side, just like the message had said, and while he hadn’t been given an exact address, it was pretty clear where he was expected to enter. There were a couple of shops on the street – small cafes and charity shops that had closed down for the night – next to a huge, old, dark warehouse. It looked like it hadn’t been touched for years – the metal walls were rusting, the weeds were overgrown and there were no cars outside. The large doors leading to the dark interior were even positioned slightly open – just enough for someone to slip inside.

He was certain that this was where he was supposed to be.

He pulled his hood up over his head, feeling just a tiny bit safer, before crossing the borderline into the place where he suspected his life would change forever.

He stepped inside easily, and it was only a little dark. The space was large, with a few abandoned pieces of junk and furniture scattered across the area. In the centre of the room was where Wooyoung’s attention was drawn – a strange object that, from his position, looked to be monolithic. But, even more importantly, he saw several figures there – seven, to be exact. Before proceeding, he took a moment to observe the seven people. They were mostly unremarkable from his distance, all male and all seemingly young. Nothing else really stood out to Wooyoung about them, except for one thing.

One of the figures donned familiar, bright pink hair.


	2. Schrodinger's Scavenger Hunt

This whole situation was just a mess. Yunho _hated_ being in a mess. He liked calm, chill things. He liked playing games, getting high and spending time with Mingi. He liked his stress-free job working at the café, where all he needed to do was make coffee and smile at customers. He _didn’t_ like to worry about whether his life would be ruined by someone who somehow, against all odds, knew his secret.

He also didn’t like this place. This dark warehouse with a group of strangers, where there was this strange contraption in front of them consisting of a tv screen, an empty grid made of metal, and strangely of all, a glass box. Inside this glass box, all the men could very clearly see a bird – a pretty robin, who was cowering in the corner, clearly scared and unable to leave the box. It had something wrapped around its leg – perhaps a wire or piece of plastic, as you often saw pigeons and other birds being caught in. There were holes in the box, letting the animal breathe, and only the underside of the box was not made of glass, but made of the top side of the box-like table.

Yunho looked around briefly again at the others. Of course, he was stood right next to Mingi, his best friend of 20 years. They had known each other since they were babies, and had always stuck together. Even now, they lived in the same apartment and worked at the same café.

The others though – he didn’t know the others. There was one guy with black hair and amazing facial features that he felt he recognised – but he couldn’t put a name to the face. Perhaps he had seen the man at a club before, or maybe he was famous on Instagram (with those looks it would be pretty easy for him). The guy closest to the screen-contraption had blonde hair, was a little short, and seemed to be very interested in the thing. He had barely said a word to anyone, other than confirming that he was also here at the orders of a message received.

It seemed all of them had been threatened in some way – Yunho wasn’t sure of the details, but certainly whoever was conducting this knew something about each of the people here. Something that all of them would rather not let slip.

There was also a grey-haired guy who seemed shy, but was still trying to make at least a little conversation – asking what everyone thought the strange thing in front of them really was. He stood a little awkwardly, but didn’t look threatening in the slightest. Mingi and Yunho chatted in reply, as did the pink-haired guy. Just from his appearance, he stood out like a sore thumb. What kind of person dyed their hair that colour? Yunho didn’t judge, as he knew hair colour really didn’t mean anything, but it seemed strange to see such a saturated colour in these circumstances.

Similarly bright in colour, there was one red haired man – quiet and strong looking – stood a small distance away from the group. Yunho couldn’t tell for sure, but he gave of a kind of menacing aura, as if he could beat all of them to a pulp in just a few seconds if he wanted to. He was the kind of guy you didn’t want to run into in a dark alley way.

As Yunho glanced around the group, he caught another figure in his peripheral vision. This figure – in a hoodie – was approaching the group, and Yunho caught his breath as he silently worried that this was the person who had coordinated this event, come to ruin them all somehow. His suspicions, however, were soon quenched when the young man made conversation.

“S-San?” He saw the man looked at the pink-haired man, who Yunho inferred was called ‘San’. Said man turned around quickly from his chatter with the grey-haired guy, and clearly looked surprised. They must have known each other.

“Wooyoung?” He replied, clearly confused. The two looked at each other for a few moments, clearly at a loss of what to say. “I’m guessing you didn’t just follow me here.” San scratched the back of his head, laughing a little. “You… were told to come here too?” Wooyoung nodded at that, but also frowned.

Yunho wasn’t always the best at reading the atmosphere, but it was pretty obvious to him that they didn’t expect to see each other here. Clearly, whatever secrets the two of them were being blackmailed for, they were unconnected. That was rather different from Yunho’s circumstances. The tallest man peered back at his other almost-as-tall friend, Mingi, who was also observing the scene.

That’s right. Yunho’s secret… it was also Mingi’s secret. That was why they had to keep it. Not just for the sake of themselves, but for each other, too. Yunho couldn’t let his loving, goofy, friendly yet anxious friend fall. He had so much ahead of him – a career in music, a happy life. Yunho would make sure that Mingi would never get in trouble for what they had done – and that meant keeping that secret forever.

And he knew that Mingi felt exactly the same about him.

“Looks like we all were brought here for the same reason…” The grey-haired guy said, and everyone nodded their heads.

“I wonder if the asshole that sent the messages is gonna turn up…” Mingi muttered, and the whole group contemplated that for a moment before, suddenly, the TV screen in front of them turned on, filling up the centre of the room with a bright, white light.

They all took a second for their eyes to adjust before they focused on the blank white screen, which did nothing for 10, maybe more, seconds. The tension in the air was up high. Soon, though, some sound started to accompany the whiteness. A robotic, artificially generated voice boomed from the speakers in the screen.

“Welcome, everyone. It seems you have all arrived on time.” It was loud and echoed against the warehouse’s walls. “You are probably all wondering why you have all been invited here, and what is going to happen to you. But rest assured, no one here will be harmed today.” The voice was monotonous, and totally uncomforting despite the reassuring words. “What we wish to happen today is for you all to play a game. A simple scavenger hunt.”

The eight men all looked around at each other, sceptical.

“You are looking for these.” An image popped up on the screen with a picture of a small black cube with a metal rod poking out of one side. “There are eight of them in total, and the goal is to find all of them. Each one is connected to each person here: There will be a small image on each of them to help you identify which item belongs to which person. Of course, there is a time limit. You will have 45 minutes in total to find all eight items. They will all be within the grounds of this warehouse. Once you find each item, please place it inside one of the empty grid squares.” The screen changed to show the strange grid thing that was hanging underneath the TV screen, and one of the items had been placed inside one of the holes, metal-rod side first.

“The goal is to find them. And once you do, the bird in the box below will be released.” The screen showed an animation of a bird flying free in the sky, a happy scene that contrasted terribly with the setting. “If you do not, the bird will not be set free and will die. Additionally, your secrets will also be released to the public, to the police and to the people you love. Your time starts now.”

And with that brief and quick explanation, a timer appeared on the screen, counting down from 45 minutes.

Yunho could feel his heart rate increase as soon as those numbers flashed up, and Mingi seemed to become equally as tense beside him. This had all started so quickly – what was going on? Yunho tried to process the instructions for a second: There were eight of these cubes, one for each of them. They had to find them and put them in the grid, so that the bird would be free and their secrets would be kept.

Even thinking it through simply didn’t help his stress die down. How could they find all eight – in this huge warehouse, In 45 minutes? Was that even possible? There were so many nooks and crannies for those tiny objects to be hidden in. Even if they passed by one, they might not even spot it right away in the dim light filling most of the room. They would be needles in a haystack.

His first instinct was to start running around and flipping things over in the hopes that something would be found. But… was that really the only solution?

“Let’s just start looking.” The shortest man spoke up after a few seconds of no movement. “I’m sure we’ll find one soon. And if we find one, or a few, maybe we will have some ideas about where the rest could be.” He said, his voice strangely calm. Despite the seeming lack of panic, which unnerved Yunho a little, he agreed that this sounded like a logical method – much more logical than his idea anyway. Hopefully… one piece of the puzzle would lead to another.

-

And so, all eight of them went in their separate directions. Some were dusting through the dirty floor, others were checking inside the scattered objects. Yunho was walking around, seeing if there was anything on top of the higher objects – after all, he was the tallest of the group. He could see the others all working hard in silence, and he silently wondered to himself what all the others had done that was worth giving in to blackmail for. Was it something as terrible as the secret that Mingi and he kept?

As he was wondering, something glimmered on the edge of his view. There was something a few metres in front of him, on top of a broken cabinet that was stacked on top of a pile of other broken furniture. He turned to look – and right there was a black cube with a metal rod sticking upwards. Exactly what he had been looking for. That metal rod had caught the light, bringing him to it.

“I found one.” He said loud enough for someone on the other side of the site to hear. He heard some footsteps approaching him, and as they did so, he walked towards the cabinet and leaned over the pile to reach for it. It was pretty easy for him to grab, considering his height.

“That was on the cabinet?” San questioned. Yunho nodded and turned the object around in his hand as the others approached. He could see on the underside of the cube – the side that had been on the cabinet – was a small ‘23’ etched into it. Yunho frowned, the number meaning nothing to him. “23? Hmm… That doesn’t mean anything to me…” San admitted. “Does that mean anything to you guys?” He asked the others.

Most of them shook their heads, although one person didn’t, instead frowning, clearly troubled by the mention of the number. It was the grey-haired man who seemed kind. They all glanced at him after realising he hadn’t denied his association with the number.

“It’s yours?” Yunho asked, holding the thing out for the man to take. Said man slowly nodded his head, shaking slightly as he took it from the taller man’s hand. Yunho tried desperately to think: What on Earth could 23 mean? Did it have something to do with what this man was being blackmailed for? That was likely the case, based on said guy’s sudden body tension.

“Let’s put it in the grid.” The man named Wooyoung suggested.

That’s right. The purpose of this game was not to find out what everyone is being blackmailed for – but to find all those objects and protect those exact secrets. And maybe, since this one was relatively easy to find, others would be similarly conveniently placed.

The shy man placed the cube into the first square of the grid. Nothing much happened. The bird in the box continued shivering, and the timer continued to count down.

“I guess… we should just keep looking, then?” Mingi suggested, clearly a little disheartened by the lack of any development. And so, everyone kept looking. They had 45 minutes to search for the eight things – and they had already found 1 in the first 5 minutes. If they kept finding them at this rate, then they should be fine… right?

Yunho carried on looking on top of the higher furniture of the room, but quickly found that there was no more luck in that regard. Minutes passed, and the timer was now down to 30 minutes without having found another. Yunho’s panic was starting to boil up again, but finally, he heard another call from behind another pile of furniture near the southern side of the building – opposite the door they had all come in from. 

Yunho ran over to see what had happened, and saw the smallest man crouched over a box that was stuck underneath the pile, the lid still accessible. The man had clearly opened the box, and inside lay another of the objects – the metal rod part facing inwards.

“What’s the picture?” Yunho quizzed, and the man turned over the cube to show him an etched image of what looked to be a computer.

“It’s… mine.” The man in front of him said to them all, getting up and walking towards the grid to place his cube inside. Yet again, Yunho couldn’t shake the strange feeling that this man was too calm for these circumstances. Nevertheless, they continued.

It wasn’t long before they found another inside a drawer on the western side of the room with a strange dragon-like emblem on it, which the scary red-haired man claimed for himself. Even sooner, they found another on the floor near the eastern side of the room, underneath an old bed frame. The picture on this one was an image of a large bottle, but there was no clear label to say what was in the bottle. It honestly could have been anything from milk to one of those bottles you bring with you on road trips to top up the tank of gasoline. Either way, Wooyoung quickly claimed it as his, and 15 minutes were now left on the timer.

15 minutes, and 4 still left to find. Yunho, Mingi, San and the handsome guy still had not found their cubes. The pressure was really setting in, all eight of them were feeling it.

“We’ve found one on each side of the building… East, South and West.” Wooyoung stated. “Maybe we should all try and find one on the North side too?” He suggested, and rather than mulling over whether it was a good idea to all focus on just one area when there were still 4 more to find, they all simply got to it without any argument. After all, no one else had any better ideas. All eight of them were searching that side of the room thoroughly and quickly – looking under, over and inside every object twice.

“You know… I had a thought.” Mingi finally said to Yunho as they stuck together, when the others were enough of a distance away to not be able to eavesdrop. “The person on the audio said that if we don’t find the cube things, then our secrets will be told to everyone…” He said, frowning in deep thought. “It didn’t say that _everyone’s_ secrets would be released… so what if it’s only those who don’t find their cubes whose secrets get told?”

Yunho listened to his words and understood the worry behind Mingi’s eyes. It was true – the person behind the screen hadn’t specified _whose_ secrets would be exposed. If they failed to find all eight, would only the people who didn’t find their cubes be punished? That… felt unfair. After all, Yunho had been the one to find that grey-haired man’s cube. The only one that had found his own cube was that blonde guy. But still, Yunho pushed those worries down and forced himself to be strong for his friend.

“But… they also _didn’t_ say that they would only release the secrets of the people who didn’t find their cubes. So… no matter what, I think all eight of us will try our hardest to find as many as we can. Even if it’s ‘just in case’.” He said, trying to comfort the younger man. It may have worked a little, but even if it hadn’t, their attention was soon brought somewhere else.

“Everyone.” The shortest guy called out again. “The room… this warehouse, it’s not square-shaped.” He said contemplatively. Yunho looked around the room and saw that the guy was right – the warehouse was, indeed, slightly rectangular. Perhaps only by a few metres at most. Yet, he failed to see the relevance of this fact.

“Not only that, but the TV _thing_. It’s not exactly in the centre of the room. It’s slightly closer to this side of the room – the Northern side.” He also pointed out, which again, was true.

“Uh… So?” Mingi spoke, his usual lack of tact showing.

“So, maybe it’s not just about direction – but also distance from the TV.” He started to explain. “Three of the cubes were found pretty near the walls, all about the same distance from the TV. But since the TV isn’t exactly in the middle of the room, maybe that means we actually need to look further away.”

“But the wall is there.” The red haired man pointed out, and Yunho nodded in agreement. How could they look further than the wall, if that very same thing was blocking the way? They certainly didn’t have the equipment, or the time, to knock down a wall.

“But there is _this_.” The smallest man approached the wall and knocked on the glass window that was partially cracked. “And if I do this…” He proceeded to grab the window fame and pull it, so that one pane of glass slid sideways, opening the window and letting a cold breeze in. “There.” He said, clearly satisfied with his correct guess.

They all saw another cube – the metal rod pointing towards them – on the ledge outside of the window.

Instead of wasting time on questioning this man and his abundance of correct guesses, they simply placed the cube into the grid, the image on the bottom showing a camera, which the very pretty man muttered must have been his cube. Instead of speculating on any of this, however, they got to figuring out where the remaining three could be. After all, time was running out.

“We’ve found one north, south, east and west of the TV.” The scary guy reiterated.

“We also found one on top of the cupboard.” Yunho reminded them. It was the only one that didn’t seem to fit any kind of pattern… yet.

They stood in silence for another moment, stuck as to what other clues they might have been given that they were unaware of.

“The one I found – near the southern wall – the metal rod was pointing north. The one that was on the shelf, at the north wall, was pointing south. What about the ones that were east and west?” The short man, who had now seemingly taken the role of leader, looked at the others.

“T-the one in the west was pointing east.” “The east one was pointing west.” Both Mingi and Wooyoung, the ones who had found those cubes, reported.

“So… they were all pointing towards each other?” Yunho asked.

“Well… _Maybe_ they weren’t pointing at each other, but all actually pointing towards the same thing.” The calm, short and clearly intelligent man turned to face the TV again. “They were all pointing here.” He gestured towards it, and the others took a moment to process this information. Indeed, the cubes were all pointing in very specific directions – towards this bizarre contraption.

“So there must be something we’ve missed here.” The slightly timid man – the one who had claimed ‘23’ as his image – stated. But what was it that they had missed? Did they need to lift the device up? Maybe there was another cube buried underneath the table? Or maybe…

“It’s mine.” San suddenly broke the silence with a sigh. “I had suspected, but… hoped not.” He said ominously. Instead of explaining, however, he merely approached the glass book, looking directly at the scared bird as he did so. Before anyone could even ask him what he had realised, he grabbed the box and pulled it upwards with ease, lifting the glass.

Everyone was speechless. All this time, they could simply let the bird free?

And yet, despite this… why wasn’t the bird flying away, now that it was free? Why was it staying, twitching in the same place and the same position?

San slowly picked the bird up from its position, where it now lay shuddering in his hand, a thin metal wire being pulled up with the bird. San used his fingers to pry off the metal wire from the bird’s foot, and as he did so, the bird stopped moving. The wire fell down, now dangling down from the table.

“It’s been dead this whole time.” He stated, his voice dark as he showed the bird’s corpse to the others.

“So… The wire was… sending some sort of electricity through it, making it look like it was moving?” The timid guy suggested, his voice breaking a little at the thought.

“So finding all these cubes has been pointless?!” Wooyoung whined, clearly disturbed by the dead bird that they had been promised they could save.

“No. It’s not pointless.” The pretty, statue-like boy finally spoke up. “The main purpose of this… _game_ … isn’t to save the bird. We all know it – the purpose is to save ourselves. To stop whoever this freak is from letting our secrets leak.” It was the only thing he had said during this whole scavenger hunt, and what he had to say hit Yunho hard. He was right - perhaps they had been hoping to save this innocent bird, but at the end of the day, that didn’t truly mean anything to them. What mattered, for these 45 minutes at least, was that they saved themselves.

“Where are the last three cubes, then?” The strong-looking man sighed, showing just a little stress under the pressure of time. He clearly didn’t like the idea about the bird, but he was right – they needed to move on – quickly.

That jogged an idea in Yunho’s mind. If those four cubes had been pointing towards the TV – then perhaps the cube Yunho had found was also pointing towards something important. It had very clearly been pointing upwards – towards the ceiling. Or perhaps it was pointing at something a little closer… the beams.

Yunho glanced at the timer. They had approximately 8 minutes left.

“I think I might know where one is. But I need some help.” Yunho said suddenly, and a few of the others looked immediately willing to help.

“You go do that. I’ll deal with my own.” San said, not taking his eyes off the dead bird. Yunho had no idea what he meant – they had figured out that the bird was dead, so what else was there to it? But he didn’t have any time to ask questions. All of them, except for Wooyoung and San, followed Yunho towards the cupboard upon which he had found the first cube.

“I need to get up there.” He pointed towards the metal beams that must have been 4 or so metres off the ground. “We need to try climbing up somehow.”

“I saw a ladder earlier!” The timid, grey haired one said loudly and quickly ran to go and collect it.

“That won’t be enough, even at your height.” The clever one stated.

“Maybe not just him, but if he sits on my shoulders at the top, and we put the ladder on top of that cupboard – he might be able to reach.” The strong one rebutted. Yunho thought of placing an old ladder on top of the already wobbly cabinet, simultaneously sitting on this stranger’s shoulders as he walked up… And he felt a little dizzy.

But this was important. They only had… what, six minutes left? He didn’t have time to be scared of getting a concussion. That possibility was far less harmful than the other outcome – his secret being leaked.

Soon enough the ladder was on the cabinet, being held in place by the others. Yunho swallowed his fears and jumped onto the man’s shoulders. Despite knowing he mustn’t have been light, the red-haired guy had no trouble lifting him. It wasn’t surprising though, not with arms that large.

“I’m Jongho, by the way.” The red-haired man said to him before starting to climb the ladder. Somehow, that small piece of familiarity allowed Yunho to feel slightly more at ease, ready for what he was about to do.

It was indeed unsteady trying to balance on those wide shoulders, and his heart was pounding so much that it was all he could hear as Jongho took each careful step up the ladder. Luckily, the ladder itself was relatively stable because of how hard everyone else was holding the base of it.

As soon as the beam was within reaching distance from Yunho, he grabbed on tight. All these years of his hobby – dancing – wasn’t for nothing. He had built up his core muscles and could pull himself up effortlessly. And as soon as he did, he saw another glint of light being reflected from a metal rod nearby. He looked in the direction of that glimmer, and crawled along the beam towards it. Only, when he was finally near it, he realised: It wasn’t just one cube, but two that had been taped together.

He picked them both up, peeking at the underside. He saw nothing there, but already understood. These ones must have been his and Mingi’s. After all, on that fateful day, they had committed that crime together.

“Found it?” Mingi shouted from underneath him.

“Yeah! Both of ours!” He confirmed, and only worried for a moment about how he would get back down.

“We’ll catch you.” Mingi said, and the five guys underneath him all came around in a circle, ready to catch.

He, yet again, swallowed his fears and used his arms to dangle off the edge of the beam. He closed his eyes before letting go, and only a second later felt a hard thud against his entire body. It hurt a little – he would certainly have a few bruises tomorrow – but they had caught him, softening his blow. He was sure he must have hurt them all more than he hurt himself, but he was grateful that they had been willing to help him.

They then rushed over to the grid, where there was a timer of just 20 seconds left.

And yet, Yunho still halted, only for a second, as he saw the sight in front of the grid-TV contraption. On the floor was a small trail of blood leading to the bird, now covered in red and ripped almost in 2. On the grid itself was one more cube – it was hard to make out as the cubes were black, but it was wet with something. San and Wooyoung were stood nearby, Wooyoung looking a little troubled, San’s expression unreadable.

But Yunho didn’t have time to think about any of that. He slammed the final two cubes inside the grid, and finally, the timer on the screen stopped. They had finished the task with only 4 seconds to spare.

The room became draped in silence as they all caught their breaths. A quiet clicking noise was heard by everyone – from inside the table-like surface that the glass box had been laying on top of. And suddenly, the top of the table flew off, and everyone jumped back as a larger bird – a grey pigeon – flew away from inside the box, through a broken window and into the night sky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello and thank you to all those who left kudos on the last chapter! And especially thank you to Sanniie for the lovely comment <3 <3
> 
> so.... what do y'all think is going on ? >:)


	3. Mess

“Well done for completing this game. You have successfully freed the bird, and your secrets will be kept for now. However, there will be more to come. You can leave now, and wait for some more invitations.” This message was read aloud by the robotic voice before the screen went black, leaving the room in silence.

So… that meant that this was not over. They would continue to be blackmailed, and be forced to participate in more… _games_.

“T-thanks for helping.” The tallest guy – whose name Hongjoong wasn’t sure of – said. Hongjoong, as well as the other four that helped him to climb up to the beams, nodded. Most of everyone’s attention, however, was on the elephant in the room – or, more accurately, the dead, bloody bird.

Looking more closely, Hongjoong saw San’s fingers also covered in blood, threatening to drip onto the floor. It was clear, to the intelligent man at least, that this pink haired guy had taken his cube from the inside of the bird. How it had gotten there without a clear incision was unclear, but how it had been taken out was obvious. This guy had used his hands to tear this animal apart.

And yet, despite the terrifying actions, it was necessary to complete the task. Not only that, but the bird had already been dead, so it shouldn’t feel this shocking, right?

After a few awkward comments, they all left pretty soon after that – the only people leaving together being the two tallest, as well as San and Wooyoung. Hongjoong didn’t ask any of them any questions – for now, he didn’t care what their names were, or why they were there. He just knew that, for now, his secret would stay a secret, and he wanted to get home to sort his mind out. He knew he needed to figure out a plan, and he could only think with utmost concentration in his studio.

He arrived back home at almost 3 a.m., which wasn’t a particularly late time for him. In fact, it was a rare occasion that he was even in bed by this time. He usually stayed up until late in the night, working on his projects. His current project – his hardest yet, but certainly the most important – was a real challenge.

He sat down in front of his set up of three computer screens, each showing different information: One, the coding project he was working on; The second, a page showing various recent news articles that he didn’t care to think about at this time; The last was the screen he used to be ‘normal’ – talk to friends and family, finish his postgraduate homework, browse the internet for memes.

He didn’t do much for a while, instead stewing in his thoughts as he spun around in his chair. He replayed the night’s events in his mind, trying to find any clues. Maybe about who was blackmailing him, or about why. And the more he thought, the more he realised that finding out who those other men were may be in his best interest. Not only would it help him to gain a little clarity, but also perhaps some more information about the intentions or background of who were now his enemies.

He sighed loudly. He should have asked them for their names.

But this was only a minor inconvenience. He was confident in his research and computer skills, and got started on searching for the seven other men. The easiest place to start was those two whose names he did know – San and Wooyoung. He figured it wouldn’t be difficult to find someone with such an odd name as San, as well as that obnoxiously pink hair. He wasn’t wrong – he barely even had to use any of his computer expertise to find his social media profiles. Instagram, Facebook, Twitter, everything. It was clear that he was a university student (hence the ability to have that hair), was into martial arts, and had a group of close friends, one of the closest of which was the other guy, Wooyoung.

Wooyoung’s social media profiles, unlike San, were all set on private, however it was easy for Hongjoong to bypass those security measures. This guy was another uni student who liked sports and dance. Honestly, there didn’t seem to be anything special about either of them… and yet, they had been dragged into this mess. What on Earth had they done?

Of course, those answers wouldn’t be found on social media.

After saving their important information – emails, phone numbers and addresses – Hongjoong turned his attention to some of the others. They were, indeed, harder to find, since he didn’t know their names. One of them, however, he felt as if he did recognise – that incredibly handsome one who had barely said a word for the whole time they were there. His face… it was just too perfect, like it had been taken straight out of a magazine.

That made Hongjoong think – perhaps he really had seen that face before. Someone _that_ good looking must surely be famous – if not, then at least trying to be. And with fame, or attempted fame, came lots of social media posts.

So, he tried to search for famous people who might fit the bill. Of course, he couldn’t find the face quickly. But after an hour or so of browsing through various fashion Instagram pages, looking at countless faces that fit many standards of beauty, he finally found a match.

He was Kang Yeosang. A model, often seen pictured in ‘boyfriend’-like clothing brands. He was pretty successful after becoming the face of a well known makeup brand. No wonder Hongjoong felt he had seen the guy before – his face had probably been on various ad campaigns around the city. After all, Hongjoong considered himself to be a kind of fashionista – at least, when he could be bothered to wear anything other than his pyjamas.

Hongjoong figured that whatever this guy’s secret was, it would certainly ruin his career. After all, celebrities might be the easiest to target once you know a dirty little secret about them. In fact, Hongjoong considered the idea that Yeosang’s secret may have been something as mundane as a sexual affair or an offhanded offensive comment from five years ago. Sure, that was enough to end a career, but Hongjoong would much rather be facing that reality that his own terrible secret that haunted him day and night, that he was working tirelessly to fix.

He shook his head, trying to focus on the task at hand: Finding the identities of the remaining four men. An image popped up in his mind: the shoes that one of the tallest guys was wearing. They stood out – certainly a design that Hongjoong hadn’t seen before – and he was pretty knowledgeable, again drawing on his enthusiasm for clothing.

It looked a little like a set of creeper shoes – but it definitely had a strange design. There were triangles and metallic shapes on it, as well as a leopard print on the top and spikes on the heel. Perhaps it was a limited edition?

Hongjoong searched through the brands he knew that sold creeper shoes, and it wasn’t long before he found a picture of the exact shoes he was looking for. They were pretty expensive, and limited edition. It looked like only a few dozen pairs had been made. And so, he used programs he had coded years ago to find and log in to the company’s database, of course hiding his presence in the process. This was where he truly started to shine. He found the files that showed the names and addresses of those who had bought those shoes, and two of them were located in Seoul.

The first was a flunk – some rich 30-year-old lady who certainly didn’t fit the bill. The other one, a man called Song Mingi, was more like the man he remembered. Again, with the name, it was easy to find information about him online. He had lived a comfortable life, and currently worked in a café (despite, according to his Twitter rants, his parents trying to make him go to university and get a ‘real’ job). He seemed like a bit of a stoner, and enjoyed some alternative lifestyle choices – hence the shoes.

His profile picture on Twitter also caught his eye – it was him, and the other guy that he seemed to stick close by during the scavenger hunt. It was, again, easy from there to figure out that this guy was a close friend of Mingi, another guy who had attended the same schools and even worked at the same café. Jeong Yunho was similar – a bit of a stoner, although instead of being into alternative lifestyles and music, he happily spent his time playing video games.

Again, nothing suspicious. What on earth could these incredibly normal people have done to warrant blackmailing them?

He tried to think of the other two – the strong guy, and the timid but kind man. He racked his brain, trying to recall anything about them, and vaguely remembered that strong guy telling Yunho his name, but he was up a ladder, so it was a little difficult for Hongjoong to hear. Was it… Jong… something? Jonghyun? Jongkuk? No…

He tried to search for athletes, wrestlers and bodybuilders that had the name ‘Jong’. He found nothing that matched. This guy, despite his build, was likely not in the athlete profession.

All he could really remember about the other guy was that he had a few distinctive features – large eyes and lips that strangely complimented his face, and the grey hair that was a little long in the front, almost covering his eyes, as if he were afraid for anyone to look at him too closely. Was that because he was shy, or was he trying to hide who he was?

Perhaps he would need to use his… less than savoury methods to find the two of them.

He logged on to his favourite forum – Comnet – a website not accessible through usual browsers. This site was full of knowledgeable people – whether that be on hacking, where to buy the rarest drugs, or, to the use of Hongjoong right now, finding people. He knew very well that these things were often used for immoral purposes – to stalk someone, or to commit crimes. But, Hongjoong reasoned with himself, this was important. He didn’t have ill intentions towards any of these people… yet.

And so, he made a post. He had a relatively positive reputation on this site, often helping others with their complex coding queries, so he hoped that would give him a higher chance of getting an answer.

_Title: Looking for two unrelated people._

_Text:_

_First guy is as follows: First name starts with ‘Jong’, not sure what the second part or last name is. Male. Red hair. Young – maybe 18-24 years old. Lives in or near Seoul. Very, very strong – large build, easily able to carry a grown man on his shoulders._

_Second guy: Also around 18-24 years old. Grey hair with long bangs. Seems shy, but also seems kind. Lives in Seoul, but has a bit of an accent – maybe from the Southern provinces?_

_If you have an idea on who either of them might be, please PM me._

He clicked submit, sighing especially at the vagueness of the description of the second guy. It would honestly be a miracle if someone knew either of them, but he had some faith in the community on this site. He knew they had their methods.

And so, he waited for a response. It didn’t come so quickly, and honestly at this point he felt too tired to continue on his project, and so he ended falling asleep in that position – crouched over his desk. And he always wondered why his back always hurt.

He dreamt of nothing - no worries about what he had done, or how many more people he would hurt, or what other things would come from this blackmailing extravaganza. It was just peaceful nothingness.

But that could only last a short time. Eventually he had to wake up. And that time came soon – when a ding from his computer dragged him out of the nothingness and back to reality.

He had received a message.

_Hello._

_The first man is Choi Jongho._

_The second man is Park Seonghwa._

_Sincerely,_

_A friend._

Hongjoong frowned at the message. It was so concise, but what was bothering him was: How did they find out both of their names in such a short amount of time? It was only 6 A.M. – he had posted that only 2 hours ago. He shook that thought away, however, when he remembered how deep the people of these sites often went to get answers. He didn’t know what kind of dark internet database this person had access to, but at least they had seemingly found out the answers for him.

He clicked on the profile of the person who sent him the message – user36578923 – and saw that the account had been created just minutes ago. Maybe… a throwaway account? Strange. This site was secure, and anyone with access to it should be able to hide their identity easily. But he shrugged it off. It wasn’t his concern who gave him the answers – he got them, and he was thankful to the person for giving them to him.

He searched for both names. Park Seonghwa yielded immediate results. He wasn’t so active on social media, but did reblog artistic pictures of scenery and buildings on Tumblr (who the heck was even on Tumblr anymore?). He soon found out that this guy was part of a relatively rich family that dealt in real estate. He used to work for them, as a kind of landlord/handyman/spokesperson between his family and the tenants, but recently he seemed to have become a bit of a shut in. He couldn’t find out why, but that much was clear.

Choi Jongho, however, wasn’t so easy to find – he didn’t have any personal profiles online, but some news articles with worrying titles did catch Hongjoong’s eyes.

_Choi Clan Suspected of Supporting Recent Terrorist Attacks Against Business Tycoons._

_18 Arrested in a Busted Drug Ring – Suspected Connections to the Choi Clan._

_Indonesian Woman Claims to Have Been Trafficked Into Korea By Choi Clan, Police State That She Illegally Immigrated on her Own._

_Police Officer Commits Suicide After Illegal Dealings With Choi Clan Revealed._

The list went on and on – suspicions against this group called the Choi Clan. It took a while of Hongjoong digging, but he did find an article from 20 years ago titled ‘ _New Heir to the Choi Clan Born’_. The article showed a baby, who was of course unrecognisable, however also featured in the article was an illustration of a dragon flying in between blades and roses.

It was exactly the same as the dragon emblem etched into the black cube that this man – Jongho – claimed as his.

Hongjoong deduced that this guy was the heir to this dangerous mafia-like clan. Hongjoong figured that this guy was probably involved in some dodgy stuff – again, someone easy to target once you knew a dirty secret, just like Yeosang. However, considering the mafia’s reputation, he suspected Jongho’s secret must be a lot worse than the model’s. There wasn’t much more information about Jongho in the news, but with the name and affiliation, Hongjoong did manage to find out his address – while there was a large family estate on the outskirts of Seoul, the young man also owned his own apartment in the city.

Right. Now Hongjoong had the names of all the other 7 men, it was time for him to take action. He was still tired, only having slept a couple of hours, but he needed to create a game plan. He needed to utilise the others to find out who was targeting them, and how they could stop it, while still keeping their secrets.

It didn’t take long for him to type up a message on his phone – which was of course secure thanks to Hongjoong’s genius – to send to everyone.

_Hello. This is Hongjoong, the blonde guy from the warehouse._

_I am into computers, so managed to find all your phone numbers. I am sending this message to everyone who was at the warehouse. I am hoping that we can all work together to work out who is behind all of this._

_Please reply if you are willing to help._

He hit send, finally heading to his bed to get some more sleep before he got any replies. This would be the start of the truly difficult part. How on Earth could he and the others track someone who they knew nothing about – other than the fact that they clearly knew things?

-

Seonghwa was suspicious of the message. He had seen it as soon as the message came through – after all, he had been unable to sleep after the events of the night. As soon as he had arrived home, he slumped himself down in the corner of his dark, messy bedroom.

He hated the mess. It made his skin crawl, and he felt disgusting sitting next to it all. He used to be the cleanest, tidiest person he knew. But now was different. Some of the clothing had been lying there for months, and some food was starting to go bad on the other side of the room. But despite hating it, he didn’t let himself clean it up. After all, with all his heart he believed that this was what he deserved – to live in the dirt.

The lights weren’t on, and it was still dark outside, so only the light from his phone screen glowed brightly. It would surely ruin his eyesight. He shrugged off the idea of moving to turn the lights on, and instead strained his eyes to read the message from this ‘Hongjoong’ a few more times. He vaguely thought to himself that this was perhaps the first time he had received a text (other than spam) in what… 4 months now?

That’s right. The last real text he had received was from an old friend – asking how he was, saying something about being worried. Seonghwa knew that they had all worried about him – all his friends and family. He knew that he had become a shut-in, shielding himself from the rest of the world. Or, perhaps he was shielding the rest of the world from himself. Either way, he hadn’t replied to that friend. He just couldn’t bring himself to type a message and press send.

Seonghwa wondered why he suddenly felt that he could talk to this stranger – someone he had only met hours ago, and under less than ideal circumstances. He allowed his thumbs to type a reply easily.

_Hello Hongjoong. What do you have in mind?_

It was only after he hit send that his heartbeat started to go up, realising what he had just done. It was simply replying to a message, and yet that felt like such a new, exciting thing to the grey-haired man.

_Ding._

He received a reply immediately. He wasn’t used to this any more. He was starting to feel a bit nervous at the idea of a conversation. But… it felt good to talk to someone. Especially someone that understood at least 1% of what he was going through. 

_I’m not entirely sure. I was actually hoping to discuss ideas, if we can all meet up somewhere that, you know, won’t have someone watching._

Seonghwa contemplated for a minute. The idea of going out to meet people that didn’t have some sinister motive towards him was strange and unfamiliar. But aside from that, he didn’t have any ideas as to where to meet up. Everywhere the man knew was either crowded to the hells, or at least had CCTV. Seonghwa even considered, for a moment, suggesting to meet up in one of his family’s uninhabited properties. They owned a lot, and although they all had CCTV on the outside, they wouldn’t on the inside. He would feel relatively safe there, and if the others agreed it would provide enough space and privacy for all of them. However, Seonghwa couldn’t realistically think of this for more than a second. No - he couldn’t face returning to any of his family’s properties. Not after what he had done the last time he went to one.

_Has anyone else replied to your message?_ Seonghwa sent in reply.

_No, not yet. It’s quite early, so I guess they’re all asleep._ Hongjoong responded.

_I… don’t know how anyone would be able to sleep tonight._ Seonghwa admitted. He wondered why he was being so emotionally open with this guy. Was he really this desperate for social interaction?

_Maybe you should try and rest, just a bit. If the others reply, we might have a long day ahead of us._

Seonghwa read the message a few times again, considering the idea. It was highly likely he wouldn’t be able to fall asleep – not with his current state of mind – but Hongjoong was right. He should at least try, right? If anything, at least his back will hurt less than the position he was in right now.

He crawled out of his dark corner, the sun finally starting to rise and illuminate his room. He stepped over several piles of clothing and items he had failed to put away before arriving at his bed. It was also covered in things, but there was just about a big enough space on it to lay his body down and take some deep breaths.

Despite his racing mind, the softness of the pillow quickly put his mind into a haze and he quickly fell into a deep, deep sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAS ANYONE SEEN THE NEW DBD KILLER CHARACTER? HE LOOKS LIKE HONGJOONG.
> 
> anway, so i re-wrote a couple of the bits in the first two chapters - the story is the same though, so no worries if you don't want to re-read!
> 
> also, thank you for all those who left kudos! i will try to update again soon~ <3


	4. Flip Phones

Wooyoung’s head hurt as the sun rays woke him up. It was late - he had slept in after getting back so late the night before. Luckily, he only had one lesson today in the afternoon, so he hadn’t missed anything and was able to stew in his thoughts calmly for the morning. 

All night, even while dreaming, he couldn’t get the image of that bird out of his mind. He remembered, as the others had walked off, San barely hesitating to dig his fingers into the poor thing’s stomach. Wooyoung felt nauseous as he saw the skin being ripped apart, a cube falling out from inside, and a pool of blood dripping to the floor. 

At that moment, he couldn’t have said anything even if he wanted to. He understood that it had to be done, but the actions still kept replaying in his head. He remembered the look on San’s face - almost emotionless. Had he really felt nothing doing that? No. That wasn’t possible. He knew San. San cared for everything and everyone - he couldn’t hurt a fly. He always gave his loose change to homeless people, and never thre away his leftover food, instead giving it to the squirrels or birds on the street. 

Wooyoung tried to reason that San must have been detaching himself. That’s right - his pink-haired friend was so upset by what he had to do that the only way he could do it was to suppress all sense of emotion or humanity.

That must have been it.

But… why did he have to do it in the first place? What relation did a dead bird have with San? Was it something to do with his secret? That much was a given. Wooyoung’s cube had shown a bottle that clearly resembled the same bleach bottle he had used to kill his parents. The others were certainly not eager to talk about their chosen images, too. It was clear that the cube – or, more accurately, it’s position in the bird’s stomach, was related to San’s secret. But what that secret was, Wooyoung still had no idea.

When Wooyoung finally forced his body to roll out of bed, and after washing his face, he finally looked at his phone and saw the message from Hongjoong.

_I am hoping that we can all work together to work out who is behind all of this._ _Please reply if you are willing to help._

It was now mid-day - he was indeed over seven hours late in replying, so he didn’t hesitate.

_I’m in._ He sent the simple message in reply straight away. He didn’t bother to ask anything on his mind - how this guy could so easily find his phone number, or what he intended to do. He was sure he would find out eventually, and at this point he was just too mentally exhausted to put in the effort.

_Great, you’re the last reply, so now everyone has agreed to meet up today. Jongho (the red haired guy) said he has an idea about where to meet. Are you able to meet at 6 p.m. today at Dolgoji station?_ Hongjoong responded quickly, somewhat startling Wooyoung. This guy must have been eager to get the all rolling. But more than that, he was surprised that everyone had already agreed. Did that also include San? 

_I’ll see you there._ Wooyoung sent the message and started to get ready for his only university class of the day. He had time, but he found himself wanting to get there early, perhaps in the hopes that he might find his friend. He tapped his foot on the floor of the bus impatiently as he waited for it to arrive at his stop, and walked briskly to the familiar building. 

He knew that San was typically there quite early. He seemed to enjoy milling around, people watching and relaxing in the busy student atmosphere. He was typically sat outside the main building on a bench - so Wooyoung headed in that direction. As expected, his muscular friend was sat there, eyes staring into space - perhaps pigeon watching.

“Hey.” Wooyoung said as he approached the man. “How are you?” San looked at him with a slight smile.

“Alright I guess. Couldn’t sleep well, y’know.” He replied, and Wooyoung nodded in understanding. “Did you get a message from Hongjoong?” Wooyoung nodded again. “Let’s go together.” He suggested. And yet again, Wooyoung nodded. He wanted to say more, but didn’t know how. His eyes felt heavy and his brain confused. It was so unlike him, but he couldn’t bring himself to feel energetic or hopeful.

“Are you okay?” San’s voice dripped of concern, and Wooyoung tried to pull himself together. He was usually so talkative, so energetic.

“Just tired.” He admitted. “And… a bit preoccupied. Not sure I will be able to concentrate in class.”

“Mm. Me too, but let’s try anyway.” San’s hand patted Wooyoung’s leg comfortingly. “We can’t let these things affect everything in our lives - otherwise they would have essentially won.” San peered into the bright blue sky, watching the clouds drift by as Wooyoung waited for him to explain further. “They _want_ us to be scared, for us to be unable to live our lives. But if we let that happen, then the outcome is essentially the same as if our secrets were revealed, right? So, while I can, we should still try to enjoy the little things in life, even if sometimes it’s hard.”

Wooyoung stared at the older man in awe. He hadn’t had many deep conversations with his friends - only occasionally on a drunken night out - and this was helping him to see San in a new light. It seemed to be so fitting that his caring, calm friend had such profound thoughts. And he was right. Wooyoung considered what his life would turn out to be if he lived every moment in fear of those who could blackmail him. His grades would suffer, he would be unable to spend time with friends, and he would distance himself from his parents. And those outcomes… were largely the same as if his murderous secret was revealed.

So, while it was hard, Wooyoung used San’s motivational words, and decided to try his best to focus on the task at hand - his next class.

-

The two tall men approached the exit to the station, looking out for any other faces they recognised. Mingi, who was wearing the same stylish shoes as the evening before (they were his prized possession), felt significantly less nervous today. Perhaps it was because of the fact that the invitation to meet up hadn’t been paired with a threat to destroy all that he loved. Maybe it was also because he felt happy that, in order to attend this meeting, he had received an excuse to call in sick to work. Of course, that meant less money for him, but he really wasn’t feeling work today anyway.

“Hey- that guy - doesn’t he look like one of the people from yesterday?” Yunho nudged Mingi’s arm, pointing towards a pharmacy next to the station. Mingi glanced at the man - grey hair, slightly self-conscious stature. He certainly did look like one of the guys from last night. It was hard to remember fully, because they had been in a relatively dark room, and now it was still light outside.

They approached, and as soon as the other guy spotted the two of them, he seemed startled. He seemed unable to decide on what to do, and ended up saying a quiet “Hi.”, his voice cracking slightly. Yunho and Mingi greeted the other guy in return, and they soon exchanged names.

It wasn’t long before the rest of them came. The last to arrive was the handsome man, who they soon learned was named Yeosang.

“Before we get going, we should all turn our phones off.” The shortest, Hongjoong, said to everyone. He was met with confused faces, and quickly explained. “These people are knowledgeable. They probably know how to tap into phones. They can probably hear us all speaking right now.” Suddenly, everyone understood.

Mingi wondered if that was really possible. Could these people have hacked into his phone? He didn’t really know much about hacking, but he supposed it _was_ viable. After all, they knew his secret. The secret that he and Yunho had thought to be successfully hidden. These people… they must have had their ways of knowing things.

And so, everyone turned their phones off without argument.

“Shall we get going?” Jongho asked the group politely, hands in his pockets. Everyone nodded and they all began to awkwardly follow the youngest man. They weren’t sure where they were going, but they were near a very public area, which reassured them of their safety a little. Additionally, while it was clear that this Jongho guy was strong, Mingi was sure he wouldn’t be able to attack all seven of them simultaneously. _Safety in numbers_ , he reminded himself.

Jongho walked in front, Hongjoong and Seonghwa behind him. The rest walked in a messy group, mostly in silence. Soon, the youngest took them down some side-streets, and some alleyways. Nothing seemed too out of place - but Mingi couldn’t help but feel that wherever this place was, it couldn’t be found on google maps.

After about ten minutes of walking, they finally approached a dingy-looking café. The building was mostly wooden - dark, old and traditional. The name of the place was long faded from the wood, but Mingi could just about make out the shapes that spelt ‘Tea Shop’ in Chinese characters. How Mingi managed to remember the Chinese characters from school was beyond him, but he was proud of himself nonetheless.

“Here.” Jongho said to everyone, opening the sliding door and letting everyone else enter before him. The café was almost empty - aside from an old dog who lay in the window of the café, and another equally ancient looking woman stood behind the counter - she was clearly the owner of the shop.

“Welcome.” She said, her voice rough from her years of life. How someone her age could still work, Mingi had no idea. “Jongho, good to see you.” She seemed to be happy that this guy was here - he was obviously a regular. Or perhaps this was a family business? Mingi still had no idea who most of these people were, and he was trying to make his best guesses.

“What drinks would you guys like?” Jongho asked, passing the small menu around to them all. It was simple - just a couple of coffee, tea and juice types. There were also home-baked cookies available. Based on the interior design, Mingi could tell it hadn’t been updated in at least fifty years. He was surprised this place was even still standing with how old the wallpaper and carpets looked. 

Everyone chose their drinks quickly and sat down on a table near the back of the café.

“This café is private, you don’t need to worry here. The owner hates technology, so she refuses to install CCTV or anything like that.” Jongho explained to them all as they all began to drink. Hongjoong nodded, clearly happy with the location.

“So I wanted us all to meet again. I have to apologise for finding all your details without your consent… but I’m sure you can all see why I did it.” Hongjoong said, and most of the others nodded.

“I was meaning to ask, but didn’t want to over text…” San spoke up. “How exactly did you find us? You said you’re into computers, but that doesn’t really explain much…”

“I guess it’s only fair I say a bit about myself, since I had to find out a bit about you guys. I guess you could say I’m specifically into coding… Amongst other things, I make programs that can hack through systems, and I can quite easily use that to find out information… But don’t worry, I have no idea what any of your… _secrets_ are.” He explained, and they all listened intensely.

“Maybe… we should all give some introductions?” Seonghwa suggested timidly, and everyone agreed.

-

After some short introductions, everyone was caught up to speed. What was next… was to discuss how they would proceed with this issue they all shared.

“I’m not sure how we’re going to find anything out though… I just work in a café, I don’t really have any big skills.” Yunho admitted to the group, and Mingi wanted to argue. It wasn’t true - his best friend was the best dancer he knew, incredibly flexible and fast. Not only that, but his luck and charm were through the roof. But he stopped himself, understanding that this was probably not the time or place for such talk.

“I have a few theories, but I’d like to hear what you guys think of them. Because I only know my own circumstances, my theories might not fit with yours.” Hongjoong started, his voice confident as if he were giving a simple university lecture. Seonghwa sat next to him, eyes sparkling, clearly mesmerised by the leadership this man had. “First, I thought that perhaps someone would be angry with us all. You know - want us to pay for whatever we have done. Admittedly, that would fit with me. But… what about you guys?”

Mingi looked at Yunho as they considered - it was certainly possible for him. But… that would surely suggest they were all connected somehow. If so, they would eventually have to reveal their secrets in order to find out the culprits, which Mingi certainly wasn’t willing to do at this moment. He saw the frowns on everyone else’s faces, and realised that they were all probably thinking along the same lines.

“Another theory I have is… Someone who is powerful. After all, for someone to know so many secrets… they must have great connections, knowledge or resources.” Hongjoong further commented after the first suggestion was met with silence. Again, everyone considered this.

“Like who?” Wooyoung asked.

“Maybe a rich businessman?” Jongho suggested, but that idea was soon put to rest. Why would a business man want anything to do with them? This would not earn them money in any way. Unless… this person had a different motive? In that case, what motive?

“Hey Jongho, do you think anyone in a rival clan could be behind this?” Wooyoung asked the youngest, who shook his head. Indeed, this had crossed Mingi’s mind, but he didn’t feel brave enough to talk to the scary looking guy just yet.

“No, it wouldn’t really make sense for me… And anyway, do you guys all have connections to the mafia, too?” He pointed out, and everyone agreed - this idea, while possible, was unlikely.

“I was thinking more along the lines of… the government.” Hongjoong said slowly and clearly. That idea… seemed not only terrifyingly possible, but also ridiculous. Mingi couldn’t help but almost scoff. They weren’t in a damn movie - there was no way a big conspiracy like that was happening, right? It was much more likely that some dodgy criminal was attempting to ruin people for no other reason than personal satisfaction… right?

“I don’t think that is likely.” Yeosang spoke, catching everyone’s attention. “I don’t see any reason why the government would want to get involved with me. Even if the government did find out my secret… this isn’t how they would react.” Yeosang explained, and everyone considered. It was certainly true - Mingi knew himself that if the government had found out what they did, their reaction wouldn’t be to play these games with him, but to immediately arrest him. This game though, he failed to see how this could be of any benefit to the government.

“Perhaps someone associated with the government, then. Someone who slipped through the cracks and managed to get a high-ranking position, but actually has an anterior motive.” Wooyoung suggested, and again, they all thought.

But, despite the ideas, they were getting nowhere. They were all simply guessing, not actually providing any evidence or course of action. They discussed ideas for a while longer, however nothing of significance came up.

“I think… we should end it here for today.” Hongjoong sighed, rubbing his forehead. Mingi checked the time on his phone - it was almost 9pm. Their heads were all starting to hurt, and surely the old lady, who was now sat next to her dog reading a book, needed to close shop and get some rest. “But before we go-“ Hongjoong reached into his large backpack and pulled out some bulky mobile phones. “These are for all of you.” He handed one to each of them.

Mingi had never owned a phone like this before - he had only played on phones like this when he was a child and not allowed to have his own yet. They were all flip-phones, able to send messages, receive calls, and perhaps play snake, but not much else. Mingi accepted the object, but had no idea why it was necessary.

“We need a way to contact each other without someone seeing the messages. I’ve altered the phones a little. They should work just fine - but are totally un-traceable, un-trackable, and un-tappable. We should be safe communicating using these.” Hongjoong explained as each person fiddled with the phones, figuring out how to use such old things. “I know it feels like we’ve got no clues, but if anyone notices anything strange, let’s tell each other.”

And with that, and a few goodbyes, they all left in their separate directions.

-

Hongjoong spent the night working on his project. It was a slow, tedious program that he was working on - his hardest yet. But he couldn’t give up, no matter what. He needed to focus, and get this done.

After all, people’s lives were at stake. Only he could save them, with this program.

It was around 4:30 a.m. when he felt like smashing his computer. The program had failed to work for the 100th time that night, and Hongjoong had an even worse headache than before.

Before he gave in to the urge to destroy everything, however, the flip-phone on his desk vibrated. 

_Hi, this is Hongjoong right? Seonghwa here._ A message appeared in his mailbox. Hongjoong wondered what this man would need to text him at this hour for - had something happened? A new lead, perhaps? He hurriedly typed his reply.

_Yep, Hongjoong here._

He got up from his desk and paced around his room a few times.

_Wait, why are you up so late?! Go to bed!_ The letters were pixelated, but Hongjoong could sense the simultaneous worried and bossy tone in the message. It took a second for his mood to change, but despite being rather angry just seconds ago, he let out a loud laugh. Was this guy really contacting him for such a simple reason as to make small conversation?

_I could say the same to you._ He replied to the older man as he tucked himself into his comfy bed.

_…Touché. In that case, goodnight._ He received a simple retort, and let out a small smile. _What a strange guy,_ he thought to himself as he drifted off into a peaceful sleep.

-

Mingi and Yunho, on the other hand, had decided to spend the night together. After the meeting with the others, they had gone to Mingi’s place to bake pot brownies and listen to loud music. His parents were out of town, both on separate business trips, so they had the place to themselves. It was a common occasion for the two of them, although they usually had a couple other people to have fun with. This time, though, they were on their own. That didn’t make a difference though, as they still knew how to have a great time.

By this late hour, though, Mingi had already fallen asleep, his body slumped against the base of his bed. Being high did that to him – made him drowsy. Of course, it also usually helped him feel relaxed and euphoric. The both of them had stayed up very late that night, TV on in the background. Only boring shows were airing at such a time, but somehow the drugs had managed to make a documentary about the history of pens the most hilarious thing in existence (they made a lot of dick jokes).

In his sleep, he had vivid dreams. At first, he dreamt of flying through clouds of coffee-vapor inside of a huge version of the café he worked in. When the clouds became rain, coins dropped to the ground, and Mingi flew down to roll in the piles of money. He thought to himself, _“man, I have the best job in the world.”_

That dream, however, was soon interrupted. He realised that Yunho was now next to him – and he was no longer in the coffee-cloud-café. Instead, they were both sat on a log in the woods, fire burning in the centre of a fire pit. They had been camping for the night, and their big tent was set up behind them. However, they were not alone. Another camper was there with them – after all, it was a common hiking route in the countryside of this area.

This guy had met them a few hours ago, when he had passed by them setting up their tent. He had offered to help start the fire in return for being able to share the space. Considering he appeared to be around 20 years old, whereas Mingi and Yunho were only 16 at the time, this sounded like the perfect opportunity for them to get into a friendship with a cool senior. So, they agreed.

And for the evening, the three of them had gotten along perfectly well. Mingi was taking in the warmth of the fire, and Yunho was clearly starting to feel sleepy, ready to crawl into their tent and call it a night. The other man, though, had other ideas.

“You guys haven’t been here many times, right?” He asked the two younger boys, and they nodded. This was actually their first hiking trip without adult supervision, which they had told him. “Hmm…” This man looked up towards the night sky, his smile illuminated against the flames. “Want me to show you something cool you can do?” He asked, and suddenly Yunho seemed to perk up at the idea of something… ‘cool’.

“Sure, what is it?” Yunho keenly asked.

“It’s actually something near this camping spot. Just a few minutes walk into the woods. Should I show you?” He suggested, and Yunho nodded his head fervently. Mingi, however, was not so sure.

“Hmm… it’s night-time though… isn’t it dangerous? Let’s wait until daytime.” He said, a slight fear of the dark showing in him.

“Nah, it’s not worth it in the daytime. You gotta go at night.” The persuading took a few minutes, but eventually, Mingi agreed. He mostly did so not because he was excited for what was in store for them, but because Yunho just seemed so eager. And he couldn’t let his best friend down.

The man guided them through the woods. They only had their clothes and flashlights on them, reasoning that they would go back to camp soon, and they wouldn’t need anything else during their trip. The further they walked, the more afraid Mingi became. He was, after all, a bit of a scaredy cat. However, he gripped onto Yunho’s sleeve and followed behind the two more confident men. His schoolmates had all done this once before during a school trip – gone in a walk through the spooky woods. Someone from school had set up some spooky decorations to scare them all good, and Mingi remembered being the laughing stock of the class that night. It wasn’t so bad – they had all forgotten about it after a few days – but it was still embarrassing nonetheless. And this time, he wouldn’t scream. He would be brave and push through.

Eventually, they reached the base of a thick, old tree. Leading up from the base was a shoddy-looking ladder. Mingi craned his head backwards to look up to where the ladder lead – a decaying treehouse, high in the branches.

“The best part is up there.” The man gestured towards the house that looked as if it were about to fall down. “Don’t worry, I’ve been up there plenty of times. It won’t fall down.” He laughed as he obviously saw the dread on Mingi’s face.

“Let’s go! It’ll be fun!” Yunho pleaded with the fearful man, showing his puppy dog eyes. He saw those eager eyes and decided: Even though he was scared, he would face his fears. He would go to the top, and feel brave. He took a deep breath and readied himself.

“Okay. Let’s go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you soooo much to ulthvc for the lovely comment on my last chapter <3 <3 i hope this update is exciting! it's a bit all over the place, but every part is important!!! >:)
> 
> what do y'all think will happen to mingi and yunho?????


	5. Treehouse

The older man went up the ladder first, follower by Yunho, and Mingi last. He regretted his choice, wishing he had chosen to go in the middle. Somehow, being last made the drop below feel much more colossal. And yet, despite a small panic attack building up in his stomach, he pressed on. His hands were sweaty, and his heart was beating fast, but he could make it. He reminded himself that he wasn’t usually scared of heights – it was just the darkness of the night that was making him afraid.

When they finally reached the top, they were finally greeted with a small, square treehouse interior. The insides were just as unstable-looking as the outside seemed. The wooden walls were turning green with moss, and the wall on the opposite side to the ladder entrance had fallen off, leaving a huge drop on both sides. The height of the treehouse was truly massive – they must have been 25 or 30 metres in the air. Surely at this height, if they fell… they would die.

Mingi instinctively held on to the remaining walls of the room.

“Wow, why is something like this in the middle of the woods?” Yunho asked inquisitively, clearly unafraid of the circumstances. Mingi always envied the braveness of his friend.

“I actually have no idea.” The man laughed again. “It’s been here since I can remember.” The atmosphere between the two of them was friendly and relaxed. They seemed to be having a good time, and Mingi silently felt guilty for bringing the average energy of the group down.

The two less terrified men chatted for a few minutes, looking at every nook and cranny of the place. Yunho had noticed a blanket in one corner, and the man told a story about how he saw it the first time he came up here several years ago. Eventually, the man came over to try and reassure Mingi. It was strange, the way the man pried his arms from the safety of the wall and held his hand, bringing him towards the broken wall. He ushered Mingi to sit down and enjoy the view of the forest at night time. After all, it would be a rare chance to see such natural beauty. Mingi peered into the forest from where he was stood, grasping tightly onto the man’s hand as he did so. And… he was right. The forest was beautiful. It was so, so quiet. The leaves on distant trees waved gently, and seemed to go on forever. From this height, it felt like… he was powerful.

But that peace didn’t last long. His grip loosened on the man’s hand, and he felt a sudden tug of his body in the direction of the forest. And, like that, he felt his body dangling from the edge of the treehouse. His eyes adjusted quickly, and he saw the ground spinning beneath him. Suddenly, he felt the blood rush to his head and he noticed something holding tightly onto his ankle.

He was hanging. Someone – that man – was holding on to his ankle as he dangled from the treehouse. If that man let go, he would die. That was all he could think about in this moment. He couldn’t make a noise, in too much shock to do anything.

“W-what are you doing?!” Mingi heard Yunho shout from up above him, where his friend still was in the treehouse.

“Ah- don’t you dare move, or I’ll drop him.” The man wiggled his arm that was holding Mingi up, and Mingi’s view of the ground swayed back and forth, making him want to puke. Unable to handle the motion sickness, he strained his neck to look up – at the treehouse’s base. There were many cracks between the floorboards, and through them, he could see his best friend’s face, filled with utter fear at the idea of Mingi dying.

Somehow, that gave him some strength. He didn’t really think over those next few seconds, but his body moved on its own accord. Perhaps adrenaline had taken over his body. He had no idea that he even possessed such core strength, but using his muscles, he pulled his upper body towards one of the cracks in the floor, where he tried desperately to grab on to the floor with his hands. It wasn’t long before he got a grip, and saw through the cracks that Yunho was looking down at his hands, which had now seemingly appeared through the floor. In just a split second, they made eye contact, and Yunho’s expression of fear seemed to disappear, to be replaced with what seemed to be determination.

Suddenly, Mingi woke from his dream with a deep, guttural breath, as if he hadn’t taken a gulp of air in minutes. He jolted forward, covered in sweat.

“Hm? What’s up?” He heard Yunho’s voice from nearby.

Where was he again? That’s right… he was in his house. Safe. With Yunho.

Mingi frowned, remembering the dream. He didn’t dream of that night often, but when he did, it always felt so vivid, as if he were reliving it.

“You had a nightmare?” Yunho asked, concern covering his voice like honey.

“Yeah… About that night.” Mingi nodded, pulling his legs up so that he was in a ball. Yunho came to sit next to him, intertwining their arms in an attempt to comfort Mingi, who was still in a half-dream state. Somehow, even though the dream had stopped, the memories continued playing in his mind.

He remembered hearing some quick footsteps and a shout, and soon after, the grip from his foot was loosened. He remembered his body slamming against the tree, but because of his strong grip, he was able to hold on to the floorboards. He remembered Yunho pulling him up back into the treehouse, his friend sobbing apologies. He remembered climbing down the ladder and seeing the man who had been pushed from the treehouse by Yunho, his organs now splattered all over the forest floor. He remembered arguing with Yunho about what they should do with the body, and winning that argument. He remembered the both of them digging up dirt for hours with some makeshift shovels made from wood. He remembered still feeling detached, even as they tossed every part of the man, as well as his belongings from the camp, into the deep grave in the middle of the woods, and even as they made their way back to camp.

That was the last night they had spoken of those incidents. They hadn’t questioned why the man had done what he did - they just promised each other that they would keep the secret forever. They wouldn’t even mention it to each other. The likelihood of someone finding the guy’s body in the deserted woodlands was slim. If enough time passed, then even if they did find his body, there would be no way to find out who killed him… right?

And so, they had stuck together ever since. Motivated by each other, supported by each other. Mingi would stay by his friend’s side for life. After all, he had saved his life. And, through some luck, there had been no reports of a missing man or dead body found in that area.

“I’m sorry.” Yunho dragged Mingi out of his own thoughts. “I’m sorry… it’s all my fault.” His friend had a solemn, regretful look on his face. “I… I shouldn’t have agreed to-“ Yunho started to speak, but Mingi interrupted him by squeezing his arm in reassurance.

“Remember, people might be listening.” Mingi looked at his phone on the floor next to them, and Yunho shut his mouth, remembering that he mustn’t say a word about that night. For a moment, silence filled the room, and Mingi realised that he was much less high than he wanted to be. “Where’s the brownies?”

-

The next few days went by rather uneventfully. The eight men had sent a few messages to each other, but nothing of significance was said. Wooyoung was finally managing to pretend like life was back to normal – he had attended all his classes that week, even finishing a particularly difficult assignment. His last class of the week had just finished, and he was ready to do something fun for the evening. The dance club was having a meet up, but he wasn’t really feeling that. Something that sounded extremely attractive was going home to play some video games. What could he play? Maybe Dead by Daylight? That used to be his favourite, but he couldn’t help but find a sense or irony playing a game like that after the week’s events. Maybe something less violent would be better. Animal crossing, perhaps.

He went home as usual, greeting his parents. They were usually back earlier on a Friday.

“Honey, you’ve got a letter.” Wooyoung’s mother said to him as he sat down at the dining table for dinner. “Open it after dinner.” She passed it to him, and he suddenly felt his stomach drop. It was the same off-white colour with his address written in the same typewriter font as the letter he had got just at the beginning of this week.

His plans for the evening were ruined, that was for sure. His mother had cooked a delicious fried rice dish, but he couldn’t bring himself to enjoy it knowing that the letter was likely about to drop some kind of bombshell. When he finally finished his food and got upstairs (he had given the excuse that he still had a difficult assignment to get on with, so that his parents wouldn’t make him stay to wash up), he ripped open the letter, his shoulders tense with apprehension.

_Dear Jung Wooyoung,_

_After successfully completing the first task given to you, there will now be a second. Come to the Western Gardens at 3 a.m. on Saturday. You do not need to bring anything._

_Sincerely,_

_Some admirers._

_Shit_. That was all Wooyoung could think. _Shit, shit, shit_. What would they get them to do this time? Last time was close - they only had a few seconds to spare, and it wasn’t exactly easy. That was only the first task - Wooyoung couldn’t see any reason why it wouldn’t get more difficult from here on out. And if they failed… everything would be lost. What kind of task would it be? Would it be similar - another search, perhaps? Or something completely different? That, he had no idea. He still didn’t know a thing about the people setting all this up - and therefore no idea of their motivations.

He breathed steadily, still clasping on to the letter. He reminded himself that he was a Psychology student - one of the best in his university, at that. He had studied profiling in Criminology before - only a little, but he knew a bit. So, he wracked his brains for a possible motive, or at least some kind of clue as to who was behind this.

First of all, it was pretty much certain that this was a group. Not only that, but a highly organised and knowledgeable group. Groups… Wooyoung remembered that groups were often bound by one of two things: identity, or a goal. Possibly both. For example, people from the same country would count as the same group - that would be identity, or the people in a company would have the goal to make money. So, either this group’s goal or identity needed to have some connection to this strange series of events. That, and they weren’t amateurs.

Before Wooyoung could think any deeper, however, his old flip phone vibrated. He opened it quickly and saw that he had a message from San.

San: _Did you get another letter?_

Wooyoung: _Yep. Western Gardens, 3 a.m.?_

San: _Looks like we’ve both been invited. Probably the others, too._

Wooyoung: _I wonder what it’s going to be… If we can do anything in advance._

San: _Like what?_

Wooyoung didn’t know. That was the frustrating thing - what could he do? What could he or San do - they were just simple university students. They didn’t have any super unique skills like Hongjoong with his hacking, or Jongho’s unbelievable strength. 

Wooyoung: _Do you think we could… I don’t know, use our knowledge to help? Maybe… figure out a profile for the people blackmailing us? Or something?_

His friend didn’t reply for a while. That was quite unlike the man - it would usually be Wooyoung himself who had to end their texting conversations, otherwise they’d go on for hours, and he’d get no work done. Now was different, though. He paced up and down his room, biting his nails as he waited for a reply.

San: _You know… that’s not a bad idea. But I don’t think we can do it tonight. After tomorrow, it’s definitely something we can try. But for now, let’s rest. We need to get up early tomorrow._

His reasoning was sound, and Wooyoung felt the tiniest piece of hope. Despite that, he knew for a fact that he would struggle to get even one minute of sleep that night.

-

Jongho groaned as he walked out into the cold early morning air. His was wrapped up in a large coat and scarf, holding a large thermos filled with warm coffee, but he still felt cold. It was still dark outside, being only 2:00 a.m., but the streets of the city were bright from the neon lights. He walked briskly, hoping his muscles would warm up with the movement.

The park wasn’t too far from his home - a 45 minute brisk walk. He enjoyed taking walks at night. He also tended to not feel afraid of the possibility of a mugging or attack, considering he was not only the heir to a mafia clan, but also incredibly strong. He knew it - no one would dare approach him with malicious intent. Anyone who did would stand no chance. Except for the people who were blackmailing him right now. They had found his weak point – that plan of his – and he was their damn puppet.

He had tried to think through who it could be - a rival, a jealous ally, or someone unrelated. But whenever he did, his head hurt, and he just wanted it to be over already. His plans… they were being put on hold for these ridiculous tasks. 

Instead of thinking about frustrating things as he walked, he instead thought over his duties that he would have to carry out over the next few days. First of all, he needed to attend meetings with his parents and their… business partners. He had done so every week since he was a child, because it was expected of him. That was where they would discuss their newest ideas of organised crime, and any issues that needed ‘taking care of’. Other than those meetings, he also would need to go and visit some of the other establishments that they had connections to, and make sure everything was in order. That honestly wouldn’t have been so bad if the places he were visiting weren’t overrun with gambling, drugs and illegal weapons. And those places were the more pleasant ones. He shivered as he wandered down the streets - he wasn’t sure if it was just because of the cold, or if it was also because of the thoughts of what else he would be faced with this week, just as he had every other week for the last few years.

Eventually, he reached the entry to the park. Being so early in the morning, it was closed, but the short fences would be no issue for any of the men. Jongho shoved his thermos through the gaps in the railings and proceeded to climb over, neatly landing on the other side. 

He wasn’t so sure where to go from here. After all, these gardens were huge. They contained not only the usual park amenities, but also woods that spanned for several acres up some hills on the outskirts of the city centre. It was amazing that such an expanse of greenery even existed in this metropolis. 

He simply started walking. He was sure that some clue would be left to lead him in the right direction, and he would stumble upon it soon enough. As predicted, he soon saw a sight that was unfamiliar to him - a string of lights wrapped around a tree. He had been to this park many times - usually for innocent reasons (he didn’t like to think about the other reasons). One of his favourite coffee shops was in the more popular areas of these gardens - man, they made great Americanos…

He shook his head, approaching the tree and taking a sip of his extra-strong coffee. The lights were red, wrapped all away around the trunk, near the base. He walked around, and saw that on the opposite side - the side facing away from the footpath - was one of those black cubes with a metal rod again. This time, though, it wasn’t hidden, but was entangled in the lights, clearly positioned to be pointing in a certain direction. He figured that was the direction he needed to walk in.

Before he started heading that way, however, he heard footsteps not so far away. He turned around suddenly, clenching his fists and ready to defend himself. However, he need not have, recognising the figure approaching from the same footpath he was on just seconds before. He had black hair, a slim figure and the face of the gods. It was Yeosang - the model.

Honestly, Jongho had recognised the man the second he saw him in the warehouse. Not wanting to pry into others business, however, he hadn’t said anything.

“You were invited too?” Jongho asked the older man, who nodded in response. “I think we’re supposed to go this way.” He pointed towards the forest, where it was significantly darker than the city he had been walking through just minutes before. The other didn’t respond, instead simply choosing to follow along with Jongho’s guesses. He thought that was a little strange - did he not want to know why they were going this way? Did he not even want to say hi? But it didn’t matter. They were both here for a reason - to protect themselves. They had learnt that much last time.

Soon enough, they saw another tree wrapped with lights. There was, yet again, another cube that pointed them in another direction. There were several trees like this, and on the way, neither of them said a word to each other. It didn’t bother either of them though - the silence of the woods was rather peaceful, actually. Jongho even had the futile hope that the task was exactly this – take a walk through the woods at night.

But finally, they reached a clearing in which four other men already stood. Wooyoung, San, Yunho and Mingi all stood at the opposite edge of the clearing - in a circle around something that Jongho couldn’t make out. He approached them, and they turned. Jongho saw Mingi’s face first. His eyebrows were knotted together and he was biting his lip raw. Yunho’s eyes were wide and watering. Wooyoung, bags under his eyes, stood tense, clearly startled by the approach of two more people. San, on the other hand, did not acknowledge their presence, instead looking down at the ground with an expression that was unreadable.

Jongho peered down to see what they were all stood around.

On the ground he saw a dead and bloody body.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello again~ just a chapter with some character development before another exciting task >:) what do y'all think i'm gonna make them do this time?


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